


Promptober 2018!

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 14,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: Promptober returns for year 2, thank you to the lovely AdorkableAuthor for this year's awesome promptlist.





	1. Flashlight

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I'm gonna learn how to queue on Ao3, but until then... I'm gonna start Promptober on.. the second of October. 
> 
> Quick little ficlets, mixed pairings, mixed relationships, no pressure, writing practice, fun.

     Knee propped against the dash on the passenger side of the lebaron, Logan munched a potato chip and nodded to himself.   
  
    “So this is really the life of a pixie spy, huh? You know… actually not what I pictured,” he shot her a smile, and went back to his potato chips. Forty minutes in, sitting in the parking lot of the Camelot, Logan was starting to lose sight of the mission.    
  
    “Not what you pictured,” Veronica nodded. Most people probably pictured her life different than it was. “And lemme guess, you still think when girls have sleepovers they run around in their push up bras, slow-motion pillow fighting with actual feather pillows.” She offered him a glare, with no punch behind it. Although, she remembered mentioning several, several times before they left, that sitting in a car doing SAT practice questions waiting for a money shot could be boring. But Logan insisted that he wanted to see the magic up close, and he’d promised he was prepared to wait for it.   
  
    “Next you’re gonna tell me Santa Claus isn’t real.” Shuffling his feet in the tiny car again, he looked over the console; Veronica legs didn’t look cramped at all.  _ Elf privilege, _ he mused to himself, and suppressed  _ that _ smile. Sure, they were dating, and playful teasing was part of their courtship. But. She still had her taser on her. “What else is in that pixie spy kit, anyways? Taser, obviously; Weevil’s testified to that. Math homework, which I thought you were joking about,” he shook his head at the textbook on her lap. He’d wanted to see the magic, and he guessed he kind of was. This was how Veronica Mars, superhero without a cape, got everything done. She multitasked the hell out of everything. Sitting in the car for forty minutes, Veronica scheduled client meetings, she reached out to helpful contacts. She did her math homework. “And what else?” He prompted, and she reached for her bag and obliged.    
  
    “Chapstick; Lilly taught me _that_ essential.” Smiling for a second, Veronica continued. “Lock pick set, self-explanatory. Camera; that’s what we’re doing here. Flashlight, notepad, pencil. Boring stuff,” she shrugged, still hoping she wasn’t wasting their time. The client’s husband’s car was in the parking lot, and so was his secretary’s; Veronica was feeling lucky, she just wasn’t feel all that patient.    
  
    “Can I hold the taser?” Logan asked, leaning across the car to kiss the corner of her mouth.    
  
   “Potato chip breath,” Veronica scrunched her nose in faux disgust and kissed him back. Maybe they really  _ weren’t _ wasting their time. Breaking their kiss, she shook her head. “You can hold the flashlight,” she laughed.


	2. Closed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between S1 and S2

  Pulling her attention from the silence of her menial cleaning, Veronica heard someone pounding on the coffee shop’s glass door, and figured they were apparently allergic to sign-reading.    
  
    “We’re closed!” She shouted from the back, focusing on sweeping up. She was positive she flipped the sign to closed when she locked the door. It was her third time closing up, and from her limited experience, once the person got the hint, they would leave. The pounding continued. “We’re  _ closed _ , you can wait out there all night if you like,” she called again. There was just no  _ way _ she was going to make another non-fat, low-carb, macchiato with whip. Some nights in customer service, Veronica almost missed when her old job had her wrestling with murderers.    
  
    “I’d rather not,” Logan laughed, and saw blonde hair spin towards the door, finally. The taste of blood in his mouth, he was fresh from a fight with PCHers and knew he looked like it. But he saw her car in the parking lot and couldn’t resist stopping. Between her brand new day job and his gang war, Logan just didn’t think they were getting enough couple-time.    
  
   “What  _ happened _ to you?” Willing the anger in her voice to overpower the fear, Veronica unlocked the door in a hurry, shaking her head. His face was bleeding; he smiled at her with blood between his teeth. “Are you okay?” She pulled him into the coffee shop, broom and chores long forgotten. Neptune’s class war was building to something worse and worse all summer, and Veronica felt caught in the middle. Her boyfriend showing up with a bruised and bloody face, and bruised and bloody knuckles, did little to make Veronica feel like the clash would calm anytime soon. Or that Logan would. “This is…”   
  
    Tracing her thumb over a cut in his eyebrow, Veronica let herself be kissed hello, and tried to remember where the coffee shop’s first aid kit was.    
  
    “Nothing,” Logan shrugged. “I’m fine.” He’d had worse, and that was the truth.    
  
    “Escalating,” she sobered. “Was what I was going to say. This is  _ escalating _ .” Not to mention, that his face didn’t look fine, at all. “Was this… Weevil?” Veronica was still surveying all of Logan’s physical marks. She couldn’t picture Logan or Weevil ever backing down from a fight. Neither one of them were ever gonna just walk away; at least not from what she could guess.    
  
    “Nah, one of the other ones,” Logan swallowed a mix of blood and spit, and realized that Veronica was genuinely upset. Her face was set in a mix of concern and anger, and it looked like she was trying hard to bite her tongue. “You think I should go easy on them,” he guessed, and leaned back against the door.    
  
    “I don’t want you to get killed,” Veronica’s voice went hard. She could understand class warfare, but every new attack felt decidedly personal on every side. She couldn’t tell anymore, if it was just a prideful, deadly, pissing contest at that point, or if other demons were at work. Promising herself, and her father, that she’d stay out of it as much as she could, Veronica knew  _ that _ was going to get more difficult, too. Reasoning with Weevil hadn’t worked- he had the steam of the PCH in his ears, and Logan was either too stubborn or suicidal to back down. Wiping blood from Logan’s cheek with a branded napkin, she knew sooner or later he was going to feel like she wasn’t being loyal to his cause.    
  
     “Hey,” he stilled her hand against his face, tangling their fingers, “I’m fine, Veronica, really. You should’ve seen the other guy.” Logan met her eyes, “Thanks for cleaning me up,” he nodded, admitting to both of them that maybe he’d stopped at the coffee shop for her tender touches to his open wounds.    
  
    Refocusing her gaze onto the cut over his brow, Veronica knew the summer was going to get worse before it got better. She just didn’t know how much worse.    



	3. Demonstration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veronica knows about Madison, Logan knows he fucked up and.... Neither know what to do about it.

     Logan sat on the edge of his hotel bed, with his arms crossed against his chest, just barely holding it together. Veronica was standing too far from him, but with the air heavy with tension and regret, getting her own space on the other side of the room felt safer; like sitting next to him would've been too much. 

    Thinking about Madison at all made him feel queasy, and thinking about the fact that he hurt Veronica again made him all the more nauseous. He'd wanted their second, third, fourth chance together to be the time she didn't get hurt, the time that no person or misdeed or indiscretion came between them. This time Veronica was hurt,and there was no good explanation. 

    There was no foreseeable redemption arc, no light at the end of the tunnel where the guy gets the girl at the end and everything turned out alright. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he waited in silence for seconds, waiting for her to tell him what he should do. What he could do. Because her eyes had been glistening with tears, over him- again, and he felt like this time, all he could sit and do was watch them spill.    
  
    “Can’t we… is there a way I can fix this? If I could go back in time-” Logan’s voice was soft, more than apologetic. He felt like he’d thrown a vase at the wall, and all of a sudden was left holding the shards and a hot glue gun-- wondering where to start, knowing all the time that the vase would never look the same.    
  
   “Why  _ her; _ out of anyone in the whole  _ world _ , out of anyone in our  _ graduating class.” _ Veronica knew he meant his apologies- she  _ knew _ he was sorry enough to puke all over his shoes. That didn’t make her feel any better.  She took a deep breath, blinked a few times with her mascara burning against her tears.    
  
    “If there was  _ any _ way I could take it back, in a second, please…” His voice shook, wracking his brain for possibilities- for fixes that didn’t end in Veronica leaving his life forever. “I know that you’re mad, but please don’t tell me out of everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve done to each other that  _ Madison Sinclair _ is going to be the thing that just…” Logan shook his head. Sitting in a mess of his own making, he knew he had no one else to blame. No one else to hold accountable. “I made a mistake. A horrible, terrible, unforgivable mistake, Veronica.” He looked to her, “I’m just asking you to think about forgiving me, anyway.” It sounded selfish, even to him. Maybe it was. But if it was the only way… Logan remembered other ways to apologize. Ways he could prove, he could demonstrate how much regret was sitting in his chest. It wasn't like he'd never begged anyone to look at his wrong doings and love him anyway. Hadnt he been doing that his whole life? “Look, punish me, okay. Find a way. Do whatever you need to do to me to know that I’ll never do anything like this again, alright?” Ignoring the way his own lashes felt wet, Logan recalled belts and fists that used to get him to apologize. That used to get him to feel  _ half _ as sorry.   
  
    Smoothing mascara from her eyeline, Veronica tried to stifle a sniffle. Could she ever forget? Was this time out of the rest that it was too much, too far. “I’m not… I’m not punishing you,” she promised, wanting to touch him for the first time since he confessed to her. She wanted to be able to forgive him, to say that they would be perfectly fine, that it wouldn’t bother her anymore. That Madison Sinclair was just another big bump in their bumpy road, but. Loving someone didn't mean they couldn't still break your heart, and Veronica felt like they'd be learning that lesson with each other over and over again. “You’re not in time-out, okay; that’s not… we’re not having that kind of a fight, Logan.” She felt sorry, too. “I know that you’re sorry, but I just… You can’t take it back, and I can’t move past it. I’m not punishing you,” she promised, she promised she wasn’t. “I’m just saying we can’t be together anymore.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this whole month isn't gonna an angst fest, I wanna bring some lighter stuff to the table, for some reason demonstration just made me feel like doing this.


	4. Cashmere

     “What is this, satin?” Weevil muttered to himself and rubbed the fabric between his fingers.  After-hours in the boutique his cousin managed, Weevil entertained himself, helping himself to trying on stupid expensive sunglasses and chains, and satin, while Veronica was off behind the counter, muttering to _herself._   
  
     Once she had all the pictures of their accounting, Veronica flipped through their books for the employee records. Time sheets all neat and orderly, she took more pictures with her cellphone, shaking her head at the hour logs. Nearly every employee was working illegal amounts of overtime, and almost never being compensated. With a snap, Veronica closed the binder behind the counter.  
  
     “Got their numbers; your cousin and the other employees definitely have a case to sue for overtime pay. And they'll be protected from retribution. The owner’s a piece of work. What are you doing?” Veronica bit back her smile, crossing the store to him; Weevil was trying on a feathered fedora in the boutique’s mirror.  
  
    “What, I can’t try something?” Fine, it didn't exactly match the vibe of his motorcycle jacket; Weevil shook his head at her, putting the hat back. “This is mine, though.” He held up a soft, purple sweater he’d picked up a few aisles ago.   
  
    “Cashmere?" She nodded, he certainly had expensive taste in shoplifting. "Is that really your color?” Veronica rolled her eyes. “I brought you for back up, not so you could go all petty criminal on me,” she shook her head. Although, looking at the owner’s sales reports, and considering he wasn’t paying his employees fairly, he could afford the five finger discount for Weevil’s sweater.   
  
    “It’s for my grandmother,” Weevil shook his head back at her. “Although, every color’s my color, V,” he said, a little defensively. “Monique said we have to lock up behind us. You know, in case any _other_ petty criminals decide to drop by.”  
  
    “Petty criminals who like cashmere,” she smiled. She couldn't afford anything on the boutique's shelves; but she figured even things she liked would've fit on her like the fedora fit Weevil.  
  
    “Did you feel this? Feels like money,” Weevil waved it at her, trailing behind her as they left the store.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been at comic con and haven't really been able to post, but i'm gonna catch up!! and after this weekend, i shouldn't be late on any more days.


	5. Harvest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre series, Mars family outing.

    “What do you think, honey? This one look about right?” Keith held up a small, perfectly round pumpkin next to his head. On the hunt for the perfect pumpkin, the three Mars family members got up early on a Saturday, and were partaking in one of their longest held fall traditions.    
  
   “That one looks like your orangier twin, Dad.” Veronica shook her head; she was almost too old for pumpkins and hayrides and bobbing for apples, going on thirteen, but the promise of stopping at the farm bakery on their way home was too tempting to pass up. She was already looking forward to the apple pie. “Definitely not carve-able.” Her eyes followed her mother across the pumpkin patch, where Lianne was walking to the car for her forgotten cigarettes. There were hundreds of pumpkins to sift through, a harvest of mostly-round, mostly-orange pumpkins spread across the field, and Veronica thought she spotted her prize. “What about this one?” Veronica turned back to her dad, spinning a large pumpkin all the way around looking for bumps and bruises.    
  
    “You know the rule, Veronica,” Keith bent down to size up the pumpkin, pulling his best appraisers face; squinting over the orange details, eyeing the stem.   
  
    “You carry what you pick, I know, I know; I can carry this one,” she pushed it over with the heels of her hands. It was heavy, probably twelve or thirteen pounds, but it was a good one. “Really,” she nodded. “It’s perfectly carve-able, and I’ll leave the sides nice and thick so it’ll rot slower.”   
  
    Keith put his ear to the pumpkin, pretending to listen. “He says that you have to promise not to feed his guts to Back Up,” picking up Veronica’s pumpkin, Keith ignored the rule for the moment, and Lianne was almost back to the gate where they were headed.    
  
    “Talkative pumpkin,” Veronica laughed, following her dad back to the patch gate. “Back Up  _ loves _ pumpkin though, no promises.”   



	6. Exposed

 There was a crowd outside the courtroom, flashbulbs and protests and cheering, but Veronica’s mind only listened to the clicks of her heels against the marble courthouse floor all the way into the women’s bathroom. After taking the stand, she immediately needed some air; she just needed to be anywhere else and alone for a minute. Cliff had prepared her for lawyer’s tough lines of questioning; she’d prepared herself to be insulted, be doubted, be put on the spot. She just forgot to prepare herself for watching her father’s face during all of it.   
   
  Replaying every question in her head, Veronica felt like she hadn’t gotten to say everything she needed to. Hadn’t gotten to explain anything about her life, or Lily’s, or Aaron’s. She pulled her court sweater tighter across her chest. Dressing the puritan part seemed kind of moot to her, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There was a judge, jury, and a whole courtroom that thought she was anything but.   
  
   Other people’s secrets were her currency; her family’s living. But she wasn’t in the business of airing them publicly, for the most part. Or outing victims. Or willfully misunderstanding their statements, twisting facts to meet an agenda. An agenda that was going to help a murderer go free. _Please don’t let Lily’s killer go free because my secrets were exposed to that courtroom,_ Veronica pleaded with anyone, upstairs or down, who would listen.   
  
    Smoothing her hair down the sides of her ears, she jumped when the bathroom door opened, a woman she recognized from the back of the courtroom came in. Celeste Kane strolled in, keeping her eyes down and her lips in a tight line. They didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge each other, and Veronica wasn’t sure what she could say, anyway. Hadn’t she done plenty of talking on the stand? She ran the hot water a few more seconds, burning her palms but feeling cleaner. There was still hope that the jury would see Aaron Echolls for the murderer he was, despite the picture his lawyer painted of Veronica’s personal reputation. She was placing her faith in the system, knowing that the case was far from a slam dunk, but Lily's best friend would still have hope, she reminded herself. She could still have hope, she promised herself again in the mirror, and all but ready to rejoin the courtroom circus, she left the women's room before Celeste reemerged from the stall.


	7. Throw Pillow

   She promised them both that she would only come in for a couple minutes, but once they found themselves upstairs and lounging on his bed, Veronica couldn’t make herself leave. They were relaxing, teasing each other, but when Logan went for a tickle at her ribs, the game was on. And then she was on top of him, with his hands wandering around her middle, and she bent down closer.  
    
     Letting her steal another kiss, Logan smiled into it involuntarily; when she shifted her weight against him, Veronica’s hands were up around his wrists, gently holding him in place under her. Straddled over his waist, they were still (mostly) clothed but definitely still enjoying themselves, taking advantage of his parents’ busy schedules and empty home. Leaned back against the pillows, enjoying his captivity, Logan turned his tongue and attention to Veronica’s collarbone and elicited a delightful groan.   
  
    “You okay there, Bobcat?” He looked up at her, meeting her eyes through bangs hanging over her face. He was teasing her, but still checking in, and it made Veronica kiss him harder.   
  
    Finally releasing his wrists, Veronica scooted back against his thighs so she could pull his shirt over his head, knocking a throw pillow off the bed in the messy process.   
  
    “I hated that one anyway,” Logan brought her back down to him, missing her warmth and touch even from a foot away.   
  
    “Me too, we need to talk about your interior decorative impulses,” she pushed another off the bed for good measure, and smiled when his hands traced across her hips and went for her belt.  
  
    "Is it important that we talk about them now?" He asked, teasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rarely get too sexual~ especially w/ LoVe but... today's gonna be a day


	8. Patient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of throw pillow

     Splayed across his bed, Veronica arched back against the soft sheets, coiling her legs tighter around his, pulling Logan down.  
  
     “Come down, come closer,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder. “You can put your weight on me, you know,” she laughed into his neck, kissing up to his ear before going back to making her demands. Clothes and pillows strewn across the floor, Veronica wasn’t mad at herself for losing track of the time and her underwear. “More,” she kissed up at his jaw, “more,” she asked for what she needed, even as he teased her.  
  
    Coming down to her, leaning more of his weight down on her, Logan smirked. He loved when she was on top and in control, but he loved when she was beneath him, still calling the shots, even when her voice got whispered and husky.  
      
     The light pressure of her nails in shoulder told him the rhythm of his hips against hers was still too slow, too teasing for her, but he wanted to take his time. From the first tickle at her ribs, Logan had been waiting to have her begging for more. Cradling her face between his elbow and palm, “I’m sorry but you’re miniature, I don’t want to break you,” he laughed against her ear lobe when she shook her head.   
  
    “You could try a _little_ ,” she admitted, with a blush in her cheeks. Heavy over her now, Veronica still hugged him tighter, ignoring the way their skin was sweat-sticky. “To break me,” their bottom lips smudged before catching in a kiss.   
  
    “Patience, Bobcat,” he promised her, his voice gone low. Bringing his left hand down between her legs, Logan quickened his pace and brought his thumb to her party. “Gotta be patient,” he smiled when she arched up against him.   
  
     "Not one of my virtues," she kissed the smirk off him, writhing against his thumb before she lost all verbal skills.   
  
    Sounds of pleasure spilling from her lips increased Logan's urgency, and her nails against his shoulderblades still gave their instruction for  _more.  
  
    "Yes,"_ she approved, finally, and Logan let out a laugh against her cheek. "Get me  _there,"_ she met his eyes with her teeth clamped on her bottom lip.  
  
     _"Patience,"_ he teased, kissing her again.


	9. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-series, before Lianne leaves

  Veronica tried to tune it out- the bickering, the yelling, the escalating arguments where both sides traded barbs they couldn’t take back. It was getting to be more difficult.  
  
     When she was younger her parents never fought- at least not in front of her, anyway. Her dad was her dad, and her mom was her mom, and her parents loved eachother; mostly. Once she got to high school they started fighting more frequently, but she never wondered if she’d be one of the kids who had to have Christmas dinner with each parent separately. But after Lily’s murder, and her dad’s ousting, the future of their family was… less certain. In her room, she cranked her walkman up to eleven and sat back on her bed, and she could still hear her parents going at it, since their new condo was so small.    
  
    “And what about  _ Veronica, _ Keith? You think she wants to stay here, in a town where we can never show our faces in public; that does  _ wonders _ for a teenage girl’s social life, you know. God, we’re  _ suffocating _ here, and you want us to pretend like everything’s fine! You want me to act like it’s alright!” Her mom was yelling, slamming something in the kitchen.    
  
    In the middle of moving their house, the fights got even worse. Veronica helped her dad unpack some of the boxes, while her mom just shuffled them around, never looking to settle their new life there. Like none of it was really happening. Like if she drank a little, or drank a lot, it was like it wasn't happening to them. To her.   
  
    “Everything’s not fine, but we’re gonna be okay,  _ Veronica’s _ gonna be okay- I can still solve the case, and then-”   
  
    “Solve  _ the case!  _ Keith! There is no case, you’re not Sheriff. And Jake Kane’s not a murderer!” That was another common line of argument- the innocence of Mr.Kane. Duncan and Lily’s dad never struck Veronica as someone violent- if anything, it was Celeste Kane that kept trying to kill Veronica with her daggers-for-eyes. But Veronica knew her dad had his reasons to stick to his (metaphorical) guns.  The Sheriff-department issued weapons had all been taken back by the city. “Even if that  _ would _ fix anything- our house is sold, our friends hate us, and you’re  _ still _ talking about the case like it even  _ matters _ anymore. For you- _that_ case is closed! How are we supposed to live like this; a private detective?”   
  
    Her dad’s new job- going into business for himself since suddenly no security companies were hiring. From the sounds of the arguments, private detective work was certainly a pay cut from a cushy county job. Knowing her dad missed his department, his uniform, and his desk- his deputies; Veronica tried not to push about what sorts of cases he would take as a private detective. But her mom just didn’t see the future in private eyeing.    
  
    “Business is slow now, yes, but it’ll pick up. We’ll get our  _ names _ back, Lianne, and then after that-”   
  
    “And how long will it take, huh? How long do we sit in the shadow of the Lily Kane murder case before we can crawl out of our hole and back to civilization?” Lianne asked, and Veronica heard her parents go silent for a second, a lull in the fighting. The calm before the storm hardly ever calmed Veronica, and she lowered her Britney CD to listen a little harder.    
  
   “I’m not sure,” her dad almost sounded defeated, “but we can do it,” he reassured his wife, and Veronica felt reassured, too.    
  
    “Maybe you can.” Veronica heard her mom sigh, and pop the top of a twist off, and so she raised her walkman again, believing in her father with a nod to herself.    



	10. I Almost Forgot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's possible i'm rewatching. again. i've done eps 1-4 and I couldn't help but notice just how many times Logan mentions how Troy's hovering around or dating Veronica. so this is an imagined Boy's Night scene about that.

   Logan clipped the tip off his cigar and sat back against his chair, waiting for Duncan to deal the next hand. Dick was somehow winning so far which had Logan scratching his head, but it was a friendly game with only a few hundred bucks to the winner, and they were all pretty drunk and having a blast. And helping themselves to the Echolls’ family cigar stash.  
  
    “So, we’re in the back seat, you know, getting ready to _go downtown-_ yeah, you know what I mean, when her _boyfriend_ shows up and gets all pissy and crashes the party,” Dick shook his head, taking a swig from his beer. “Waste of a perfectly good parking spot,” he frowned, looking at his next hand and folding straight away.  
  
    Looking sideways at the table, Logan wondered what everyone else had.  
  
   “What about you, new kid on the block,” Logan puffed his cigar and checked his hand, gesturing to Troy, “Any trips _downtown_ with good ‘ole 'Ronica Mars?” He laughed, rolling his eyes when Duncan shook his head.   
  
   He didn’t know what Duncan’s deal was- things had been over with Veronica for forever, and she wasn’t even their friend anymore, let alone anything else. But fresh off his break up with Caitlin, a relationship that had imploded in part because of a certain private eyeing blonde, Logan was looking to rain on anybody’s happy relationship- but especially Veronica’s. And he knew Duncan liked Troy but Logan needed more convincing.   
  
    “Look, man, I don’t kiss and tell…” Troy shrugged, raising his bet at the table, to protests from Dick and Enbom. “But if I _did,_ let’s just say there _might_ be something to tell…” Smiling, Troy kept his eyes away from Duncan and Logan.   
  
    “Listen, we’ve all heard man, Ronnie’s a good time in the sack,” Dick punched Troy in the shoulder, “Just ask the swim team,” he laughed with the group, going back to his cigar.   
  
   “No, no, no, no,” Troy raised again, daring the rest of them to call his bluff, “Veronica’s not like that, she’s a nice girl. Once you get past the prickly parts.”   
  
    Logan eyed the raise suspiciously, and called; something about Troy’s smile, too wide, too smug. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to befriend the newcomer or hit him. “Yeah, right. Nice girl, prickly parts,” Logan looked to Duncan, “maybe she used to be the church going mouse, but she looks a little more cat-that-ate-the-canary these days. You expect us to believe you’re no canary?” Asking Troy, Logan wasn’t sure why the table hushed, until he looked back at Duncan’s glare.   
  
    “What’s your deal with Troy and Veronica, man? She’s my ex and you’re the one acting super jealous all the time,” Duncan finished his drink, and for a second nobody around the table talked. "It doesn't bother anybody else," Duncan shook his head at Logan, but was reassuring Troy.   
  
    With a look back at his hand, Logan folded his pocket aces without showing the table.   
  
    “You’re right, man,” he forced a laugh, “I almost forgot I really don’t care what, or who, Veronica Mars does.” Finishing his drink, too, Logan pushed the pot to Troy, not caring either why the game just didn’t feel that fun anymore.


	11. Platform

     Two nights previous, when Veronica tailed her latest project to a hole-in-the-wall rock club, she had no idea just how difficult getting in was going to be. Usually, her fake ID and her best fake smile got her at least on the line with the cool kids, but this place had tighter security than the Neptune Sheriff’s lockup. Once the bouncer asked her for the night’s password, she knew she had to rethink the plan. And the way he kept staring at her out-of-place clothes had her rethink her outfit.    
  
    Returning for revenge, this time Veronica looked the rocker chick part.   
  
   “Trading in my lebaron for some guy’s hog seems to have been a safe bet,” Veronica handed Weevil back his helmet, and fixed her short, black wig so she didn’t have helmet hair.    
  
    “If you’re gonna talk dirty, we have to go home, darling,” Weevil teased her. Signing on to be her scary-looking decoy boyfriend, Weevil saw how a crowd of smokers just outside the club were already paying more attention to his bike than Veronica. It was like a magic trick, all diversion and trickery. No one would ever claim they saw a pesky, preppy blonde poking around their little goth club, because that Veronica left the building.    
  
    With Weevil close behind her, Veronica strode up to the club’s entrance, positive the doorman would never recognize her from the other night.    
  
   “What’s the password?” The guy asked, giving Veronica’s fishnets a too-long onceover.    
  
   “Cucumber,” Weevil cleared his throat, drawing the guy’s attention away from Veronica’s thighs. He didn't have to dress up to look the scary-boyfriend part; his regular black leather motojacket and PCH leader glare did plenty of their own magic tricks.   
  
    Biting back a genuine smirk, Veronica had doubts about  _ cucumber _ as the code word, but had her faith restored when the guy nodded his approval.    
  
   “Cucumber?” She turned to Weevil once they were inside. The music was blaring, and angry. Strobe lights against the crowd made everything hard to see, but Veronica figured that just made it easier for her to blend. Even if she was going to start asking the waitstaff questions any minute.    
  
   “Told you, I know a kid that hangs here,” Weevil shrugged. “He said tonight’s password is cucumber. Nice boots by the way,” looking down at her platforms, Weevil noticed she was taller than her usual five foot nothing. He wondered just how much money she spent on props and disguises and wigs; why she would have goth platforms with zippers and buckles, and fishnet stockings, and the whole outfit. How often did she anticipate infiltrating a rock band?   
  
    It wasn’t his scene, but he could see why people might like the place. The skirts were short and tight, and the music was aggressive.    
  
   “You want a drink?” He asked, gesturing at the bar. Seated towards the corner, was the guy who’s picture Veronica showed him before they left.    
  
   With a smile, Veronica nodded, charging through the crowd towards the bar. “I do, actually,” she pulled him with her.   



	12. Bowl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for possibly triggering materials ahead. I totally understand if ya'll wanna skip this little scene having to do with veronica's pre-series rape. has to do with her being drugged and Lamb's (non)response to her reporting the crime. between the kavanaugh appointment and general badness in the world, i promise some lighthearted stuff to come. but skip Bowl if you need to! thanks and be well <3

_ You need to go see the wizard, ask him for some guts.  _ __   
__   
__ Veronica wretched over the bowl again, feeling the after-effects of the previous nights alcohol consumption and other stomach-churning developments.  When her dad was Sheriff…    
  
    She gagged again, feeling the burn in the back of her throat. When her dad was Sheriff, she was sure he took every case seriously. Right? He would’ve never told anyone to  _ go see the wizard. _ She rolled her eyes, and even that brought a wave of nausea.    
  
    Positive she was drugged the night before, she was still trying to piece together what she remembered. GHB would be out of her system within twelve hours, so even if Lamb had  _ wanted _ to investigate, her urine and blood tests might not have helped. Her memory sure wasn’t helping. She remembered getting ready for the party. Drinking. Dancing.    
  
   Her stomach lurched again, but she was able to keep it down.    
  
  When she heard her dad’s key in their condo door, she willed the lump in her throat to go away, staring hard at herself in the mirror. Maybe she should’ve told him, but. What was there to tell? How would he handle what she said? Staring herself down, she heard her dad calling for her. Checking on her. Worrying about her.  __ Ask him for some guts, she heard in her mind.    
  



	13. Dead End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: was brought to my attention that I totally forgot the off screen timeline here, Veronica never left Neptune for new york directly after s3 (Stanford first and stuff) but I still like the vibe of this one so I'm gonna leave it and hopefully remember canon next time. Thanks!

After checking her bag, Veronica waited almost an hour til boarding. Her flight to New York was only five and a half hours long. It felt like such a short time left to wait to start a whole new life. 

She’d tucked her phone in her purse right after her dad dropped her at the airport. She’d said goodbye to Wallace; and promised to visit at some point in the distant future. But everyone else… There was still time before she boarded; she watched the minutes count down. She could call Logan, or Weevil. Mac, even. Her mother. Tell them her plans, how she wouldn’t be a text away anymore. How she was running, from them, and for them. At some point, Veronica had started to feel like maybe she was the magnet. She was the thing that trouble was drawn to, and Mr. Clemmons had been right from the start. Maybe while she was gone everyone in Neptune would not only carry on, but thrive. Maybe her dad would be Sheriff one day, and Weevil would go straight, and Logan get it together. Maybe her mom would even stop drinking, one day.

She never called them. She didn’t want to find out what they’d say. If Logan would’ve asked her to stay.. If Weevil would’ve given her a pep talk about how Neptune needed her. They would've all been right, but all been wrong.

When they finally called for boarding, Veronica took her purse and silently took her window seat, pulling the curtain down. Neptune, and all of it’s perks and drawbacks… at some point, Veronica figured she just kept driving herself down dead end roads. Not just with Logan. With her dad, with their business. With her mom.

The plane took off, and Veronica closed her eyes, happy to feel like she wasn’t just driving two thousand miles down another dead end. Where the next road would lead? She didn't know, yet.


	14. Light Bulb

    Veronica Mars set her brow, and once she set her brow, she could do anything. She was almost certain of it.    
  
    “You good, V? You look like you’re thinking… really hard. That or, trying turn your water bottle invisible.”   
  
    Veronica sat straighter, and released her grip on her water.    
  
   “I’m good,” she nodded. She was going to beat finals week, again. And she was going to wrap up all her open cases, maybe long enough to get in some summer fun. Maybe. “Mentally tallying all the days I have to work my butt off before it’s summer vacation,” she smiled, taking a deep breath.    
  
   “Nineteen, not including weekends.” Wallace supplied handily, not that he was counting or anything.    
  
   “Who includes weekends?” She teased, relieved that junior year was almost over, but with mixed feelings already about the impending Senior Year. There were all the highlights coming up; the prom, graduation, turning eighteen, college acceptances. She was excited for real life to start feeling like real life. But there was a part of her that held back a sadness because she was going to be older than Lilly would ever get to be. She was going to graduate, and go to college, and Lilly was never going to. “I have an idea,” Veronica said.    
  
    “All ears for this light bulb moment, Mars,” Wallace leaned closer. “As long as it’s a good, mostly legal idea.” Sometimes he felt the need to add conditions to their friendship. He was pretty sure it was the only thing keeping him safe from prosecution.    
  
   “Mostly legal,” she nodded. “This weekend, what if we did a finals-butt-kicking plus Jackie-Chan-moviefest double feature? You bring the popcorn, I bring the karate chops.”   
  
    “A little weekend kung-fun?” Wallace smiled. “Yeah, I could be into that. After the Algebra 2 studying,” he conditioned, again. "Nothing with subtitles."   
  
    “Of course,” Veronica set her brow again, but half-jokingly. If there was anything she learned from Lilly Kane, there was no time like the present to carpe that diem. Lilly never waited for her life to start, or end. And when she admitted it to herself, Veronica hated waiting for life, too.    



	15. Peak

    “So,” Logan sidled up next to Veronica, handing her a glass of champagne to match his. He’d been looking for the maid of honor since the last course. “You, me, formalwear; not a bad team,” he smiled, downing a sip. He knew bridesmaids dresses were supposed to be ugly, but Veronica Mars in navy blue satin could knock anybody’s socks off.   
  
   Shaking her head, Veronica was trying to decide just how many hours into this wedding she had to keep her heels on. Was there some contractual obligation? Could she just ditch them under the dais and go back to being only five feet tall without anyone noticing?    
  
    “Dick knows what being married means, right?” She asked, looking over Logan in his tux. The man could certainly do formalwear; all clean, military lines now, but still with the Echolls flair. Veronica could swear she still wasn’t sure how this whole wedding came together. One day Dick was Dick, and Mac was Mac, and then all of a sudden they were getting married. Like. To each other. And then Veronica found herself the maid of honor, with Logan the best man, standing across from one another on the beach, making eyes across the platform like some made-for-TV romance movie.   
  
    “It means you’ll beat him to death if you find out about his girlfriends.” Teasing, Logan accepted her glare with all its appropriate weight. “He loves Mac. They’re gonna make it,” he nodded, reassuring them both, watching Mac and Dick smear cake on eachothers mouths. “Probably,” he shrugged, earning himself another glare. “What do I know? For all I know, this could be their marriage’s peak.” He laughed when she slapped him on the arm, incredulous. “You disappeared for a little bit,” he pointed out.    
  
   “Weddings,” she shook blonde bangs from her eyes, looking up at him. “Something about ‘em makes you have to fix your makeup,” Veronica shrugged innocently. “The thing about beating Dick to death though…” She trailed off, watching Dick spin Mac around the reception’s dancefloor. Something about Dick Casablancas had Veronica worried that he’d want to marry one of her best friends in a Taco Bell or a strip club. But all the men wore their suits; Mac had her white dress and her hair streaked blue. “They look really happy,” she tried not to think of the fifty percent divorce rate. Or the cheating spouses she tailed, or all of Dick’s personal failings. He  _ was _ good to Mac; Veronica saw it all the time. Heard about it all the time. But the surfer dude from high school still made Veronica wary for her friend. That was just who she was, she figured.    
  
    “Not happier than us,” Logan bumped her shoulder, feeling for his own wedding band.   
  
    Veronica laughed into her champagne flute. “Obviously not, but still,” she shook her head. “Time for cake?” She brightened. Also time to ditch her heels.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my best friend's mom got married last weekend, so i have weddings on my brain. i had a ton of fun with this one, and i wanna thank you guys for all your sweet comments on previous chapters. i can't believe we've halfway through the month already!! ALSO this is not to say that i ship Dick/Mac cause i usually kind of dont but.


	16. Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for assaults, sorry kiddos

  
    With the music cranked, hot, sweaty bodies writhing everywhere to the beat, Logan thought opening night at Dick’s club was going really well. People were ordering drinks, dancing, having a good time Dick Casablancas style. Months ago, when the building was just a shell and Dick just a big fan of liquor, Logan wasn’t sure the vision was really there. But one by one contractors, and liquor vendors, came calling, making the place presentable and even trendy.    
  
    Just back from his first deployment, Logan almost felt old at this party. Like he was crashing some college frat and should’ve been asking people for their IDs.    
  
    “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, honey,” salt from his date’s margarita glass tickled Logan’s lips as she kissed him on her way by. Kelly something, a friend of a friend, who wanted in to the big premiere party at Dick’s club. Watching the way her dress swayed away from him, Logan’s eyes caught something else in the corner of the bar.    
  
    From what he could tell, in a booth in the corner, two guys were taking turns doing body shots off a tiny, barely-conscious blonde who didn’t look like she was still having fun.    
  
    Lump tight in his throat, Logan crossed the bar, unable to take his eyes off the table. The boys were laughing, with their hands touching the girl who was decidedly not laughing anymore.    
  
    “I got it,” Dick caught Logan by the shoulder, and nodded. “Go back to having fun, okay? Take one night off from being the hero,” with another friendly slap to Logan’s shoulder, Dick went for the table instead. Waving over newly-hired bouncers, Dick helped the girl to her own personal space, and Logan watched the bouncers kick out the two guys who had been playing with her.    
  
    “Toby at the bar will sit in my office with her and call her a cab and make sure she gets home,” Dick said, when he came back to Logan’s side, noticing that Logan’s date was at the bar entertaining herself and Logan just couldn’t help himself when it came to petite blondes. The military couldn’t train it out of him. “If the ladies are gonna come to Dick’s to party, they’re gonna have a good time,” he said, and meant it.    
  
    “That’s good, man,” Logan felt a little swell of pride, for himself and Dick. 


	17. Enchant

   Hair swept from her face to the nape of her neck, and her blush with just a little more sparkle than her usual perfect glow, even from across the room Logan could barely look away from Veronica Mars. He could barely register anyone else in the room.    
  
    Normally, her combat boots and confrontational style drew his attention to her- attention to her angles, her edges, the places that snagged him up. But in an understated little black dress, she was still stunning, just in a different way. With his attention drawn to her softness, her curves, her light, she almost  could’ve been the Veronica of years past.   
  
     While she was laughing with Wallace, Logan quickly ducked his eyes away from her where she might’ve caught him staring. With a deep sigh, it was time for another glass of champagne.    
  
    He was out of Veronica’s orbit now- across the room, and almost a world away. Soon she’d be on to bigger and better; deep down, Logan figured Neptune was always too small of a town for her, tiny as she was.    
  
    And they were broken up, and graduated, and she was rightfully moving on. Eyes on her again, Logan watched her go back to laughing easily with Wallace, and a lump formed in his throat inexplicably. They’d spent months at each other’s throats; he’d taken a lug wrench to her headlights, and then they had saved each other’s lives. Probably literally. All just to circle back to being nothing to each other? To being strangers again? People who used to be friends?   
  
    He’d wasted his chances with Veronica, and he was out of time, he realized.    
  
   The thought sunk in, uncomfortably.    
  
    That soft smile was never going to be for him. Her eyes were never gonna sparkle over at a surprise from him, she was never going to laugh in his bed again.    
  
   Swigging his champagne, Logan swore he was trying to take his eyes off Veronica.    
  
    But maybe in this story, in their story, there was no epilogue, no post-credit scene where things work out in neat, nice fashion. No epic lovestory ending.    
  
    Turning away from the party, Logan checked his phone, bearing a text from Kendall Casablancas. She wasn’t enchanting, or devastating, or anything to him. It didn’t bother her that they were using each other. Logan swallowed another mouthful of champagne, deciding what to write her back.    
  
    “Hey,” Veronica inched past him, pouring herself and Mac diet cokes from the bar, and Logan left Kendall on read. “Some alterna-prom. Very punk,” she smiled at him; soft, with her lips a glossy baby pink.    
  
    “Just because we’re anti-establishment, no reason we can’t party,” Logan managed, tearing his attention from the shine of her lips to helping her with her drinks.    
  
    “Who said that; Churchill, was it?” She narrowed her eyes up at him, teasing him, and it was almost enough for him. Smiling over her shoulder as she went back to the party, Logan sighed, fears quieted for the moment, and he ignored the phone buzzing in his pocket a little longer.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically, i saw "enchant" and couldn't /not/ write about the prom/EPIC moment. Logan's face there just.... enchant. anyways. i know i have a couple days to catch up on, and it's not that i'm not writing every day it's just that somehow the day gets away from me and i don't end up getting it typed up. so i'm gonna type out a few tonight!


	18. Rotten

    Veronica kept her eyes forward, she tried to stay focused on the physical task at hand. It was after school, with the hallways almost cleared, and she bit her lip to keep it from shaking and betraying her. Nodding to herself, she was ready; and she crossed the hallway, the combination to the locker like a mantra in her head. Of course she knew Lilly’s locker combo, after all- Lilly knew hers, too.  _ Or she used to. _   
  
     Using the combination, with a small click, the lock opened, and Veronica reminded herself that she had practically volunteered to do this. Otherwise, the Sheriff’s department would’ve went in all bolt-cutters and bulldozers, looking for personal effects in Lilly’s locker.    
  
    There were new stickers on its door, since Lilly used it last.  _ RIP  _ stickers, and graffiti touting  _ Long Live Lilly Kane. _ Veronica blinked to keep tears from forming, and promised herself she was ready to open the door.    
  
    “What are you doing at Lilly’s locker?” Logan interrupted; he’d watched Veronica from across the hall, making a beeline in the tennis shoes Lilly autographed for her. “Earth to Mars?” Logan snapped his fingers, when Veronica didn’t look at him. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” It was all over the news, that Veronica’s dad thought Mr. Kane killed Lilly. The Kane family was going through hell, and Veronica’s family was piling on.    
  
    “I promised my dad I would-” Veronica started, chewing the inside of her cheek and keeping her eyes away from Logan. People at school didn’t like her anymore, that was fine. Her own friends outcast her, okay then. That wasn’t going to stop her from helping her dad solve the case.    
  
    “You’re breaking and entering into Lilly’s locker because the  _ law _ told you to?” Letting out a laugh, Logan shook his head. “You people don’t quit, huh. D, you’re just gonna let Veronica take Lilly’s stuff?” Elbowing his best friend, Logan looked to Duncan.    
  
     Veronica braved a look at her ex-boyfriend, her dead best friend’s brother; but for all Veronica could tell, Duncan was practically asleep standing up. His eyes were glassy, almost like they were that night at the Kane’s. He blinked twice, and looked a little more like the old Duncan Kane when he focused on Veronica.    
  
    “You really want to be the one to dig through Lilly’s half-used chapsticks and leftover Tiger Beat, man?” Duncan asked Logan, never actually speaking to Veronica.    
  
_ Because that would break some unwritten blood-oath, _ Veronica reminded herself. Duncan Kane could never acknowledge her actual existence, and Logan Echolls could no longer be her actual friend. Those were the new rules.    
  
    Holding the tension in place for a beat, Logan relented, shifting his gum in his mouth.   
  
   “If the Neptune Sheriff wants to waste tax-payer dollars on overdue math homeworks and my finest love poetry, I guess you can go ahead,” Logan dismissed Veronica with a hand wave and a glare.    
  
    Opening the locker, Veronica found the usual suspects. Lilly’s binder, her textbooks. She didn’t see any notes from Logan, but she found notes her and Lilly used to scribble to each other between classes. A rotten apple, left sitting in Lilly’s locker for weeks, was the only thing Veronica ended up tossing in the trash. Even if her locker contents weren’t revealing evidence, they were still Lilly’s things, and if the Sheriff’s office didn’t want them, Veronica did.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually wrote /three/ snapshots for Rotten so. maybe i'll post them someplace after Promptober like. a promptober B-sides lmfao.


	19. Can't Do This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for Logan's suicidal ideation and tendencies, and Lynn's suicide mentions. From when Logan's on the ledge.

  
    Logan thought of his mother. He thought of her last day, how he had no idea it would be her last day in his life. He thought of how she must have felt on that drive to the bridge, how she must’ve felt the breeze in her hair as she climbed up over the side.    
  
   He felt the breeze at his own neck, thought about how he felt on the drive over. His toes dangled over the ledge, but he didn’t look down yet. He thought about his mother.   
  
   His mother was dead, gone. Her problems solved. His problems? Ever so present. Ever so consuming.    
  
    Playing the bad boy was fun for awhile. Hell, it was fun for a long while. Being Veronica Mars’ boogieman, or one of them, was a party in itself. A thrill. But being her friend again? Being the person she trusted again? It was calming, soothing; she blunted the edge of most of his tragedies.    
  
    Until the inevitable, when she pulled back. When she mistrusted him. Thought him a killer?    
  
    Almost losing his balance against the beach breeze, Logan stifled a laugh at himself. At the world. He’d done bad things- he’d done bad things with  _ glee. _ Why should it surprise him that people didn’t have faith in him? That Veronica wouldn’t, no;  _ couldn’t _ trust him.    
  
    Who else in his life was left?    
  
   Logan’s mind genuinely rang blank for a moment, scaring even himself. Even as he was up on the ledge. Without Veronica, without Lilly, without Duncan. Who was he? Why should he continue to make everything worse for everyone, including himself?   
  
    He thought about his mother. If maybe she had the same thoughts about him, while she was up on her ledge. Maybe she figured he’d be better off without her. Without anyone. He rocked on his heels, daring himself, but nothing happened. He stayed on the ledge.    
  
_ I can’t do this, _ he thought to himself. And kept wondering why.    



	20. Trainer

    “C’mon, Veronica Mars, don’t tell me you’re getting soft on me now,” Wallace laughed over his shoulder, running up the bleacher steps. “Maybe you really  _ are _ a marshmallow in your old age,” he turned at the top, and ran back down, passing her looking winded.    
  
   Squinting her eyes at him, Veronica hoped she was mustering a look close to murderous, but with sweat dripping into her eyes she wasn’t sure it was working. She had to swallow a barb about tasering him, just to conserve her oxygen until she got to the top of the stairs.    
  
    “I don’t feel so good, Papa Bear,” she wiped sweat from her face with her forearm. “When I agreed to this little training exercise I thought you were going to go easy on my twenty eight year old body,” huffing a breath, Veronica reached for her sport bottle.    
  
   Up at five am on a Sunday, the sun was already bright and warm, bouncing off the high school’s bleachers. With a naval officer for a boyfriend, Veronica thought she wanted to start taking fitness seriously, especially since she felt like she was pushing thirty and her metabolism’s tolerance for ice cream meals was wearing thin. So to speak.    
  
   “I thought you were seriously interested in getting in shape,” Wallace teased.    
  
    “When you got your license to be a phys ed teacher, they made you promise to be mean, right?” She pulled her ponytail tighter, almost ready for whatever next punishment he had planned.    
  
   “Promise?” Wallace feigned confusion. “I’m here ‘cause I’m having fun. All those days of you torturing me, I finally get a little payback. We still have jumping jacks left, don’t get comfortable.”   
  
   “ _ Torturing _ you,” Veronica rolled her eyes. “You should’ve been the drama teacher,” she muttered, but Wallace’s face went into a glare.    
  
    “Just for that, we’re doing thirty,” he laughed when she groaned.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will admit, i had a harder time w/ this prompt. not one of my favorite little scenes but Wallace and Veronica can always make me smile.


	21. Superstition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early s1 LoVe fighting. might've stretched a little with this prompt :?

  “Would you like to find out just how many different ways I can hurt you?” Veronica stormed towards Logan’s locker, steaming practically coming out of her ears. “Cause I sure would,” she crossed her arms, and he slammed his locker door to face her. “I’m glad you’re still here and I caught you just in time, you don’t have a villains meeting or something to get to?”    
  
    “What have I done this time, Officer Mars? Or… there is no  _ officer  _ Mars now, right? At least.. That’s what the local news said,” Logan shrugged, pretty sure he was easily dismissing Veronica Mars. Over the summer Logan heard rumors about her going crazy, moving, losing her mom to bars up the coast. He wasn’t sure how much was true, and he didn’t care. So she had the new haircut, the new shoes that gave her some false height, but somewhere deep in there was little Ronnie Mars, newly outcasted and waiting for her way back in.   
  
    “Explain to me why it’s the first day of school and I have two flats, Logan,” Veronica glared, willing to bet her next paycheck on Logan Echolls being the culprit. It wasn’t just her private eye instincts or personal spidey sense tingling- he’d left his pocket knife in her driver side rear tire like a calling card just for her. She wasn’t going to take it this year. Last year maybe she hadn’t been tough enough, the other kids sensed it and were relentless vultures, constantly picking her apart with their whispers and outright contempt. She had to squash Logan Echolls early in the year, and then maybe it would send a signal to the other 09er howler monkeys that new Veronica Mars wasn’t going to let them get to her.    
  
    “Just unlucky I guess,” Logan laughed and checked his audience, but no one around them in the halls laughed with him. They seemed to be waiting for something, like this was some sort of contest that she could ever possibly win. “Those 02 roads must be just hell,  _ filled _ with potholes,” he pressed the wound of the Mars family step down in standing. But Veronica didn’t flinch, and that made Logan wanna press harder.    
  
    “I must just have the worst luck ever, that’s it,” Veronica gave him a false smile, like she was congratulating him for figuring it out. “I forgot my rabbit’s foot at home, and driving without it is just a dumb idea.”    
  
    “Hey, you said it, not me,” Logan laughed against the locker, running his hand through his hair. “Never figured you for superstitious, though. I thought the only thing you believed in unconditionally was your dad.” His voice went low, like they were going to have it and talk something serious, but he shook his head and laughed again. “You must really need that rabbit’s foot though, because then instead of just having one dumb idea, you had another and thought you should interrogate me about this? The Neptune Villain club is meeting soon, I’m gonna be late, and we’re trying to get to regionals this year,” he smiled.    
  
    “Are you having fun?” Veronica asked, eyeing the grin on his face. He wasn’t just annoying her to hurt her, he was genuinely enjoying himself. That pissed her off even more. “I’m glad,” she smiled, when he nodded with a satisfied smirk. “Enjoy it now,” she sing-songed, letting him walk away. “Cause you’re not gonna find it funny when you see where I gave you back your pocket knife,” she waved him off, feeling a little enjoyment herself when his smile wavered, at last.    
  
   “Hey man, do you think you can give me a ride home?”  Veronica heard Logan ask Dick, and smiled shaking her head.


	22. Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VM leverage au. sort of. too on the nose?

    “Oh, perfect!” Veronica stormed into the bar, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, eyes focused in on Logan sitting  _ too _ close to another blonde. “I leave you alone for  _ one _ minute and your eyes just wander off and can’t help themselves!” At full volume, her voice drew other patrons’ eyes. The other blonde’s cheeks went pink, and Veronica felt a little bad about dragging an innocent bystander into it. Logan mustered shame though, but Veronica could tell it was taking effort.   
  
   “Sugarpuss-”   
  
    “ _ Don’t _ sugarpuss me,  _ pookiebear,” _ she scowled, and heard some laughs and winces around the bar. “You want this one?” Asking the other girl at the bar, Veronica stepped closer. “Trust me, you don’t, you know what he did?” Chin jutting out, Logan couldn’t wait to hear what came next. “My best friend, for starters,” she nodded, and the girl frowned. “In the restaurant bathroom of our  _ engagement  _ party,” she threw her hands, and anyone who wasn’t riveted before, certainly was after that.    
  
    “Baby, I told you- that was-” Hands up defensively, Logan got off his bar stool, apologetic smile to the girl who had done nothing at the bar but sit next to him. “It was all a just a really big, really  _ funny _ misunderstanding,” he said to Veronica, and the entire bar that they’d dragged into their domestic spat. Even the bartender seemed to be watching the scene instead of pouring drinks.    
  
_ “Nice work, Weevil’s at the safe,”  _ Mac cut in to their earpieces. “ _ Don’t stop the Young and the Restless on my account, we still need four more minutes,”  _ she shook her head outside in the van. With Veronica and Logan making sure the bouncers and bar patrons were paying attention to them, Mac was monitoring the security cam feed, and Weevil was at the safe working his magic.    
  
    “ _ Funny _ how your penis just accidentally ended up in her mouth,  _ yep! So funny!”  _  Punctuating their performance by grabbing the girl’s drink and tossing it Logan’s way, Veronica kept her eyes away from Logan’s soaking face. She knew she wouldn’t break character, but she didn’t want to give Logan the impression that she was enjoying herself  _ too _ much. There was always the next job, where she might find herself on the receiving end of his drink.    
  
      Almost stunned for a second, Logan was surprised she went for the full splashdown. But they came here to be the theatrics, and every once in awhile that had it’s sacrifices.    
  
    “Baby,” Logan whined apologetic, “It really wasn’t at all like that, she said she wanted to give me a wedding present, and then-”   
  
      Veronica shook her head, cutting him off.   
  
     “Hey, if you want him ladies, he’s all yours, I’m done!” With a dramatic swipe at her finger, Veronica reared back and fired her engagement ring, hitting Logan squarely in his wet chest.    
  
         “Okay, it’s time for you two to leave,” a bouncer stepped forward, grabbing Veronica by the arm and pulling her towards the door.    
  
    “Hey, get your hands off my fiance!” Logan yelled, getting his own personal bouncer escort.   
  
    “Pookiebear, I’m being  _ man handled  _ here, let’s get out of here and figure out how you’re gonna make tonight up to me,” she reached for his hand as the bouncer team got them out the door and to pavement, shaking their heads.    
  
    Once they were alone on the street, Logan handed the ring back to Veronica, with a smirk.    
  
    “Was the drink necessary?” He laughed, smoothing his shirt.    
  
    “Yes it was, because you stole  _ this _ big of a diamond just to use as a prop,” Veronica scolded, shaking her head.    
  
    “Maybe I’m planning on using it for something else,” Logan said, meeting her eyes seriously for the first time since she’d stepped into the bar. They played couples all the time, for the con. And that was fun, it was almost enough. She still hadn’t dropped his hand, but she did drop her eyes away from him, and it was enough to get him to stop pushing. “We should’ve went with the impromptu public proposal in there, that girl turned shades of red I previously didn’t believe humanly possible,” he eased off.    
  
_ “You two done playing the happy couple?” _ Weevil’s voice came into their ear pieces, and Veronica and Logan dropped their hands away.  _ “I got the dirty money, if anyone’s interested in what we came here for,” _ he sighed, “ _ I’ll meet you guys back at the van.”  _ __   
__   
__     “You could’ve let them finish their moment,”  Mac whined. Every case they took she was sure was going to be the one where Logan and Veronica eventually dropped pretense and just kissed each other and went for it. The unresolved sexual tension was starting to get to her.    
  
    “Consider the moment finished,” Logan took his piece out and put it in his pocket, and motioned for Veronica to do the same.    
  
    Once they were unconnected to the rest of the team, Veronica put the ring back on, shaking her head. There was no reason she couldn’t be Logan’s long-suffering fiance at least til they got back to the van.    
  
    “It wasn’t a bad job in there, Sugarpuss,” she smiled at him, her real smile not the ones he saw while they were grifting.    
  
    “I thought I was Pookiebear,” he pouted, but brightened, “but I’ll let you call me anything you want, V.”     



	23. Flicker

  
    Veronica sighed at herself, finger on the trigger of the taser in her pocket. She was tough, she could handle most things- and a two mile walk home at two am should’ve been a breeze. She just hated the way walking around at night through Neptune’s deserted streets put her on the worst kind of high alert. Out with her dog, she always felt safe. But out alone, there was a bad feeling Veronica hated acknowledging. There was an impatience to it, like she was constantly waiting for something to jump out of the bushes. A guy walking his dog across the street eyed her, and Veronica felt her pace involuntarily quicken despite her best efforts to be cool.   
  
    As if on cue, the street light she was heading towards flickered and went out, darkening her pathway even moreso. Shifting her bag’s weight on her shoulder, Veronica pressed on. With her dad in Arizona, at least he’d never have to find out how late she was coming home. The downside was, she couldn’t call for a ride.    
  
    Breaking up the silence, Veronica heard the low rumble of motorcycles approaching, and she felt her adrenaline surge as headlights came close behind her.    
  
    “Don’t you know it’s dangerous out here at night? Something could be out here looking to get you,” Weevil pulled up alongside her, cutting the engine to his bike. Waving the rest of the crew on, a chorus line of stolen parts and flashy rides rode past Veronica, leaving her on the street with Weevil.    
  
   “Or I could be out here, looking to get somebody,” she stepped closer to the bike, and she knew Weevil could see the outline of her taser through her sweatshirt. Finger off the trigger, she put it back in her bag. “My car died,” Veronica admitted, looking back where she came from.    
  
   With a nod, Weevil outstretched a helmet to her. “I saw it down the road, thought maybe you were, you know. On a case or something,” he shrugged. “You could’ve called,” he muttered. They have a  _ thing, _ he figures. A sometimes-mutually-cooperative thing. Sure, she could protect herself; he’s seen the up close visual. But her enemies in Neptune almost seemed like they might outnumber her friends, and Weevil thought maybe their mutually-cooperative thing could sometimes be counted as a friendship.   
  
    “I didn’t wanna take you away from your cruising and affiliating,” she smiled, taking the helmet he offered her. How did the song go? Friends in low places? Was that better than last year, when she just had no friends?    
  
    “Yeah, cause that’s you, afraid to ask a favor,” Weevil held the bike steady as she climbed on behind him.    
  
    “Actually…. Mind if we make a stop before you take me home?” Yelling over the bike as it came to life, Veronica smiled in the helmet as Weevil shook his head at her. 


	24. Bookmark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after Veronica knows it was her mom meeting Jake Kane at the Camelot, when she knows her dad is lying.

  
    Veronica couldn’t focus on her homework; she kept rereading the first lines of her assigned text over and over, again. She couldn’t possibly get her English homework done while pretending her family wasn’t being dragged back into the Kane family saga.   
  
    Her mom meeting with Jake, Celeste turning to her father for help… Plus, Veronica knew her dad was lying to her.   
  
    Shoving her lucky puppy bookmark into her textbook, Veronica admitted to herself that she knew why she was unfocused. Wandering into her dad’s office, she scanned his desk for his calendar, and looked up the rest of the week. Routine client meetings only; Celeste Kane’s name wasn’t anywhere on his upcoming schedule. _We’re gonna drop this case, anyway,_ her dad had said- in between lies. But he had to tell Celeste _something._    
  
    He wasn’t going to tell Celeste that her husband was meeting his wife at the Camelot well after bedtime? With a sigh, Veronica felt anger at both of her parents, even as she tried to cut her dad some slack. Sure, he was lying. But who in Neptune wasn’t?  
  
    Veronica jumped, hearing her dad’s key in the front shop door. Scrambling back to her side of the office, she grabbed her textbook and flipped it back open, leaning back in her chair like she’d been there all night. She greeted her dad with a smile when he came through the door.   
  
    “Saw the light on from the street, honey, what are you still doing here?” Keith worried.   
  
    “Just got stuck studying, lost track of time,” Veronica lied, waving her bookmark as a prop. “I’m leaving soon,” she promised. “And I’m _starving,_ not to throw too big a hint,” she closed her book, knowing she hadn’t studied nearly enough. Or at all.   
  
    “What would you say to pizza?” Keith smiled when Veronica smiled, and helped her grab her stuff on the way out. 


	25. Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a christmas fic in October? who am i...
> 
> i've been resisting my crackier impulses but, sometimes the crack fic ideas take hold.

  Crawling into her bed, Veronica clicked off her TV when it started singing Christmas carols at her. Kids were caroling, creatures weren’t stirring, and Veronica was missing her dad and only feeling a bah-humbug mood. Christmases in New York were definitely different than sunny Neptune, California, and New York had set her up a properly Christmas-y atmosphere. The Rockefeller tree was lit, people were bustling with packages on the subway, and the threat of a white Christmas was looming serious and real. But with her dad across the country, her mom busy with a new baby, and Wallace still too busy with work to drop everything and visit, Veronica just wasn’t feeling like cooking any Cornish game hens. Weeks ago, she’d made one big trip to the post office mailing out her presents, and she’d done most of her shopping online.   
  
    She _did_ do her office’s Secret Santa, gifting Cindy from HR a travel mug with fancy-flavored gourmet coffee. And Luke from the IT department got her a new desktop wrist rest, which… she actually kind of needed.   
  
    But her apartment flaunted no Christmas tree, no twinkling lights, no baby in a manger, or red-suited man with a sack full of goodies. There would be no Christmas Eve dinner, unless she ordered herself some Chinese, and no presents on Christmas morning.   
  
    With her eyes drifting off to sleep, Veronica sat up when she heard Lilly Kane’s laugh for the first time in a decade.   
  
    “Lilly?” Veronica flicked on her light to see Lilly Kane at the foot of her bed.   
  
    “C’mon, Veronica Mars, where’s your Christmas spirit?” Lilly looked around Veronica’s room, gravitating to her closet and seeing no elf costumes.   
  
   “Lilly, what are you doing here?” The murder case of Lilly Kane was long-solved, and it’d been a long time since memories of Lilly Kane manifested themselves as fashion dispensaries in Veronica’s home.   
  
    “Duh, I’m the ghost of Christmas past, dummy; I really have to tell you how this works?” Folding her arms across her pep squad uniform, Lilly sighed. “Three ghosts, reminding you about the true meaning of Christmas; yada, yada, let’s get to the flashbacks with _moi,”_ Lilly snapped her fingers.   
  
    In the blink of an eye, Veronica found herself in a corner of the Kane’s living room, watching a Christmas Eve that played out a decade earlier.   
  
    “This was your last Christmas,” Veronica said, to ghost Lilly who shushed her. At the time, Veronica didn’t know everything was going to change so much during that year. She looked at herself, her younger, more carefree self, and felt a little sad for the girl who had no idea what was to come.  
  
    “Logan’s about to give out his presents to the gang, and I’m still relieved mine wasn’t a marriage proposal,” with a dramatic wince, ghost Lilly pointed Veronica back to the scene in front of them.   
  
    “Well, wait…” Veronica interrupted again, “Aren’t you supposed to tell me what I’m supposed to learn from…” she gestured, “All this?”   
  
   Rolling her eyes, ghost Lilly sighed. “Weren’t you the private detective? Did law school melt your brain _that_ much? Detect!”  
     
     


	26. Tomorrow

    “We’re supposed to just brush past the part where you’re so lonely your friends have to haunt you? But you’re fine, you’re Veronica Mars, you’re all good,” Wallace stood over her, his skeptical face appearing in front of her in all it’s Wallace-like glory.   
  
_“Not_ another nightmare, am I gonna get my sleep-cycle reimbursed? No more flashbacks,” Veronica threw her covers back, and accepted that this was how her night was going to go. Three ghosts, yada yada, Christmas feelings, yada yada. “It is good to see you , though. You’re not… I mean with the _haunting,”_  she gestured vaguely with a swipe through his middle, “you’re not dead, right?” The technicalities of these nightmares were starting to pile up in Veronica’s very sleep-deprived brain.   
  
    “I think technically I’m just visiting,” Wallace offered her an almost-transparent shrug, “but _haunting_ _you_ sounds more official, can you just let me have this? Extremely not dead though, which you would know for sure if you called more, thank you very much.” Ready to lay it on heavy, Wallace’s ghost reached for Veronica’s hand. “No more flashbacks; it’s ten pm on the west coast, let’s see what you’re missing, shall we?”   
  
     In an instant, Veronica was brought to her father’s office. Slumped over, asleep at his desk on Christmas Eve, Veronica’s heart sank.   
  
    “He promised he was going home early tonight, and snuggling up with Back Up and some hot cocoa with festive marshmallows.” She sighed; she was pretty sure he had been exaggerating about the marshmallows even at the time, but she really hoped he would go home for Christmas.   
  
    “Who died and put you in charge of vacation time?” Wallace interrupted Veronica’s pity and guilt spiral. “You’re telling me _you_ took the day off?”  
  
    When she frowned, Wallace smiled his victory.   
  
    “So… you’re the ghost of Christmas present, and you’re here to… guilt me into coming home? Not even Dad does that,” she pointed out, as they both listened to Keith start to snore.   
  
   “Your dad puts on a brave face but we _all_ know that he’d rather be buried under ten feet of snow with you than sleeping in his desk chair,” he sighed. “Fine, lemme show you _my_ Christmas Eve. No guilt here, just wanna show you what you’re missing out on,” Wallace shrugged, and with a tug on her arm brought them to his mother’s house.   
  
    Christmas decorations sparkled across the mantlepiece, the tree stood almost proud enough to be an east coast Christmas tree, and Wallace and the Fennels were all laughing around the dinner table. Veronica swore she could smell chocolate pie.   
  
    “Guilt and desserts? Okay, you may be onto something of a competent strategy…” Veronica smiled at Alicia and a grown-up looking Darrell, and Wallace and Mac looking relaxed and happy. Extended family was milling about in the kitchen, and as they waded through the crowd- literally- Veronica thought she spotted her name on a present under that big tree.   
  
    “I love that you guys always get a real tree,” Veronica bent down over the wrapped present; it’s red paper and gold ribbon made Veronica miss her family harder.   
  
    “Me? All real, baby,” Wallace elbowed her, teasing, and looked down at the present, too. “I kept meaning to mail it, but every time I thought about it I thought maybe you’d surprise us all and show up, so I kept it here for you just in case.”   
  
   Laughter behind them made Veronica give him a half-smile. “So tomorrow morning you’ll be in the post office, being my belated Secret Santa?” She tried for light, but ghost Wallace didn’t budge. “I can’t just come home because you miss me,” gently reminding them both, Veronica thought about everything she had waiting on the other side of the country.   
  
    “Maybe not, but you could come home because you miss us.” Wallace waved his hand and they were back in her apartment, alone and quiet. “Is your life really here, still? Or are you just nursing that Veronica Mars stubborn streak with no one here to stop you? No one will think less of you if you want to stay in New York, you know. But no one will think less of you if you want to come back. Or at least visit,” he looked around her apartment, with a shrug.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhhh. so i went away for three weeks and now its uh nov 30. i'm finishing tonight!!!!! but yeah.


	27. Sparkles

    After exactly 26 minutes of uninterrupted sleep, Veronica woke up to a chill in the air, and yet another ghost standing over her. This time, she was faced with a long black cloak, seemingly empty but still standing tall.    
  
    “Lemme guess, Christmas future? Not terrifying at all,” she nodded, pulling herself out of bed. “Was Dickens just… writing down fact, or?” The ghost didn’t answer, and Veronica couldn’t see a face but she felt a frown. “Okay, let’s see the future,” she closed her eyes a blink, and then gone from her apartment, she found herself instead in a crowd.    
  
   A crowd facing an open casket.    
  
   “Is this the part where I die an old maid? Those home ec classes never paid off, did they? But hey… this is a, you know. Sizable turnout?” Pulling her lips tight, Veronica wasn’t sure that chatting with this ghost was as much fun as chatting with Lilly or Wallace.    
  
    People moved around them and through them, and Veronica didn’t really feel like she recognized anyone there. Taking a few, unsure steps through the funeral home, Veronica kept her eyes looking through the crowd. Where was Wallace? Mac? Her friends? Her family? Who were all these people?   
  
   “Veronica Mars?”    
  
    Veronica turned her head, and saw herself- her olderself across the room, and her stomach dropped. She wasn’t at her funeral. Her futureself was meeting a man in a Naval uniform, an officer something who’s striped shoulders spoke of a long naval career.    
  
    “Logan Echolls was one of my best pilots, ma’am, and one of my best friends,” the man nodded at the open casket at the front of the room, and Veronica watched her futureself nod along. “I never got the full story with you two,” the man had a joke in his eyes about that, “but I know on long deployments he wrote to you, until his very last mission.”   
  
    Veronica positioned herself in the middle of the conversation, and watched her own face drop. Her future self grappled with how to respond, and her time-travelling self listened hard.   
  
   “There’s no reason Logan would’ve written to me, and I never got any letters, so I think you must have me confused-”   
  
    “Ma’am,” the officer interrupted, and held out a thick folder. “He never sent ‘em, but I know he wrote ‘em. In ‘08 we shared a bunk and he’d keep the light on all night writing  _ something. _ I promised Mouth I’d never read them, but he told me to forward them if he ever, well… anyway, I’m forwarding them now. These are for you, they’re all to you, and dated, and I just thought you should have them if you came here.” With a curt nod, the man passed the binder into her hands, and both Veronicas stared down shocked.    
  
   There were  _ pounds _ of letters.    
  
    Watching tears well up and sparkle in her own eyes, Veronica followed herself out to the parking lot, with the ghost silently following, too.    
  
   “You know what they say, don’t you? They’re why we’re here? Why would you show me… Logan Echolls is…” Veronica stopped searching for the words, the ghost wouldn’t answer anyway.    
  
   Future Veronica put the binder on the passenger seat of her car and took a few long, deep breaths.    
  
   “Maybe they’re his mess hall diaries, we really don’t know;  _ damn, _ will you  _ open _ it,” Veronica yelled at herself, and was surprised when future Veronica picked the binder back up and slowly opened it.   
  
_ Spanning years and continents; _ both Veronicas remembered.    



	28. Medication

    Slowly and deliberately, Veronica laid out her dad’s pills exactly to Nurse Brenda’s specifications. Two green and one little white with breakfast, plus an orange multivitamin because Nurse Brenda wouldn’t let her dad forget that he was not getting any younger.    
  
   Putting the little medication pile next to a big plate of eggs and pancakes, Veronica got their coffees ready and heard her dad grumbling down the hall. Slippers sliding against the floor, Keith got to the kitchen in one whole, slow piece and smiled at his kid.    
  
   “I thought I smelled pancakes,” he sat, but looked seriously at his daughter. “You don’t have to keep doing this for me, sweetie. Playing nursemaid to an old man. I can make my own eggs and count my own pills, you know. And sooner or later we’re going to have to stop talking about me and all my good looks and focus on you.” Since the hospital, Keith knew he was taking things slower than usual, but he was proud of the progress he was making. He just kept feeling like his progress was still slowing his wonderful daughter down.    
  
    “How about.. We compromise and focus on the Mulrooney case. Because they’ve reported five break-ins in their house in six weeks and the Sheriff’s office is washing their hands and calling BS. Do you think the family’s exaggerating?” Veronica sipped from her mug, and watched her father take all of his pills, resisting the urge to tease him and ask him to lift his tongue. She  _ wasn’t _ his nursemaid, that wasn’t her job. But they always took care of each other, and she was  _ sure _ she was going to do that.    



	29. Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Veronica Mars Christmas Carol. Veronica reaches out to an old friend at the urging of a Christmas future

“Logan Echolls, speaking,” Logan answered the phone on the second ring, and thought he heard the faintest breathing on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

Veronica cleared her throat, and nodded to herself, the phone pressed tight to her ear. “Hey, Logan. It’s… it’s Veronica Mars.”

Logan laughed into the phone, shaking his head. “It’s 2012, we have caller id now, Veronica. I figured it was you calling from, you know… your phone.” Teasing her after all this time of radio silence? Maybe too bold a play. But if Veronica was calling after everything, he had to find out why. “Is everything… alright? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you,” he reassured the quiet end of the line, “just. Well…”

“No, no, no, everything’s fine, everything’s fine,” Veronica hurried to answer, then. Everything was probably fine? Aside from all the haunting and the not sleeping and oh shit, what time was it in California? “I’m… not waking you up am I?” She winced. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you were, but nope, I’m already up. Are you sure everything’s okay? I heard… I heard you were in New York,” Logan looked down at his lap. The odd piece of information about Veronica Mars still crept into his life. High school was a long time ago, and his life was better now, he was a better man. A grown up, almost; he laughed to himself. But every once in awhile? Every once in awhile he thought of Veronica Mars, and every once in awhile wondered if she thought of him, too. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m an east coast girl now,” Veronica settled in her chair. When she dialed, she had every intention of leaving a very nice, short Merry Christmas voicemail and starting out slow. “I heard, you were in the Navy?” Heard from who, she wasn’t prepared to say. 

Smiling, Logan wondered who mentioned that. “Yeah, I fly navy jets now. So, take that high school guidance counselor,” he chuckled. The years in between hadn’t been easy, but they hadn’t been all bad. And he was somewhere now, a better place. 

“You must be away a lot,” Veronica heard herself prying, but. A leopard and its spots, she tried not to remind herself. 

“Not as much as you,” Logan laughed again, and it made Veronica relax to feel like this again. Like they were playing some game, flexing those old muscles she hadn’t used in forever. 

“I’ve been thinking about coming home,” she sighed, surprising herself again. Going back to Neptune, stomping all over her old stomping grounds, was never the plan. “You know, I mean, I’ve been thinking about visiting Neptune. Soon,” she added, almost in a whisper.

“Really? So that’s why the call? You wanna get the Neptune band back together? I’ve still got Dick on speedial…”

“Don’t threaten me,” she laughed. “Little Dick’s still living the frathouse dream?”

“Every day of his life,” smiling, Logan realized how glad he was to hear from her. They weren’t talking about anything, sure… but her voice, her laugh. He thought he could hear her smiling. “Don’t let you hear him call you that, though.” 

She smiled to herself, waiting a beat. “It just started snowing here,” falling snow caught her eye out the window. 

“A white Christmas? No kidding. That’s something to see.” Logan could see the beach out his front windows, but he could imagine a white Christmas all the same. “Merry Christmas, Veronica.” 

“Merry Christmas,” she tucked the phone against her ear, shifting on the couch. “That’s really why I called I guess, and I’m just realizing now that you definitely have plans and company and a Christmas hootenanny that I’m interrupting to blather on about Little Dicks and snowflakes, but. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas,” from me and Lilly, Veronica swallowed the thought. 

“Nope, no hooting no nannies for me, I ship back out tomorrow, actually, so. I’m getting ready and tying up loose ends and stuff, no big Christmas to-do this year.” Or the last several years, Logan added, mentally. “I’m glad you called, it’s really good to hear from you.” His duffle was at his feet, almost fully packed, ready to be zipped. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, then I’m keeping you from getting ready,” Veronica shook her head, closing her eyes. “How long will you be gone for? You know, so I can schedule the Neptune Band’s opening night for sometime after you’re back.”


	30. Salt 2

Logan drank until he could smell beer in his own exhale, until he could barely see straight; until he could almost get the sight of Lilly’s bashed in, bloody skull out of the front of his mind. 

There were whispers of a bloody crime scene, of course. Kids speculating at school, about how the fabulous Lilly Kane met her infamous end. But when the crime scene photos leaked, even Logan’s brain could stop speculating when local news channels blasted the murder snapshots like the latest tabloid fodder. 

They’d spent entire summers by that poolside together, and in the photos she was splayed out and bloody and dead. His girlfriend was dead. Murdered. In the seriously angry head-bashy way. 

So he drank; the cheap stuff that Lilly never touched. He carried a case and his surfboard down to the beach, and he got drunk enough to just try and catch his breath. 

He knew there were people who thought he did it. Because the Kanes had security, and he had a record of fights at school, and him and Lilly had been fighting at the time. But Logan knew he never put his hands on anybody that didn’t deserve it. And he was just drunk enough to wonder if that’s what his father believed, too. 

But Veronica’s dad was wrong; Veronica had to be wrong. Jake Kane was a good man- the Kanes were good people; they wouldn’t have ever hurt Lilly, right?

He pulled another twist off from the pack and stuck his feet in the cold ocean. With his toes in the sand, Logan watched the waves, the moonlight, and when he had to wipe salt water from his cheek on his shirtsleeve, he knew it wasn’t sea water.


End file.
